No Kiss Backs
by Irrelevancy
Summary: The boys play an epic game of "Kiss jersey no kiss backs" with high stakes, and Jo and Camille thinks it's all foreplay. OT4: Kendall/James/Carlos/Logan. T for suggestive content.


**A/N: Happy holidays, everyone!**

**This was supposed to be a Christmas thing. It really was.**

**OT4, which means Kendall/James/Carlos/Logan. All together.**

**Also maybe sheer utter crack.**

* * *

><p>"Mistletoe?"<p>

"No, not catchy enough."

"A word with two syllables."

"Hockey."

"Too vague."

"Katie?"

"Too specific."

"Helmet."

"…We'll hold that for consideration."

"But only because we're desperate."

"How about… Hot girls."

"Too subjective."

"Science?"

"Too _objective_."

"No it's not."

"Fine. It's just lame. Next!"

"Beatles."

"Too open to interpretation."

"I got it!"

"What?"

"Jerseys."

"That's…"

"Good."

"Really good."

"Alright. Jersey it is."

* * *

><p>It was a normal day at the Palmwoods, with the California sun shining brightly above, teenagers of all gender and preferences lounging in various states of dress by the pool, the boys of Big Time Rush running around trying to kiss each other…<p>

"_Kiss jersey no kiss backs!_" Logan yelled from his perch on Kendall's back as he yanked Kendall's head around to plant a sloppy kiss on his mouth. Kendall groaned in irritation, and Logan hopped down, a weird expression on his face. "Wow that's a weird thing to say."

"Hey. There were no better options," Kendall interjected, sounding a bit offended. Before he could say anything else, however, Carlos sprinted by the opposite end of the pool, his helmet strapped on over his face, and Kendall was off, chasing after him as if he was some sort of dog or werewolf-like creature. Logan, on the other hand, sat down on a pool chair to catch his breath and nurse his possible internal wounds (Kendall had a really boney elbow). They had been playing the game nonstop since its inception in apartment 2J's living room half an hour ago, and Logan, despite his absolute powers of ownage on the ice, was getting a bit winded.

Camille and Jo walked over arm in arm, sitting down in the chair next to him wearing identically bemused smiles.

"Hey," Camille greeted. Logan waved.

"Hey yourselves."

"What was that about?" Jo asked.

"Oh. You guys know the game punch buggy no punch backs?" Logan asked. Camille shook her head.

"Whenever you see a Volkswagen Beetle, you punch someone," Jo explained. Logan nodded affirmation. "And you have to pass the punch on."

"Well, we're playing kiss jersey no kiss backs," Logan continued, making a vague hand motion that was supposed to gesture to the jersey Kendall had been wearing before he sprinted away.

"That sounds weird to say," Camille observed.

"So you kiss each other when you see a jersey?" Jo asked.

"We kiss each other when we see _Kendall's_ jersey," Logan corrected with a happy nod, oblivious to the dubiety in the looks Jo and Camille exchanged with each other.

"I gotta say I'm curious," Camille admitted as Jo nodded along. Logan immediately hopped up, his This-just-got-awkward face in position.

"Sorry, this is a Big Time Rush-only game. Now before you girls get all offended," he quickly explained, "it's nothing like the Prank War. There is a very good reason why no one else can play but us."

"Oh?" Jo hummed. The girls crossed their arms, their I'm-waiting faces waiting for Logan to provide an answer. Logan turned slightly pink.

"See, we came up with the game this morning in bed when James and Carlos were messing around with mistletoe, so the prize for the winners is also kind of…" Logan trailed off meaningfully, but Jo and Camille were still waiting. He coughed, trying to say as quickly as possible, "…in bed."

Jo blinked in realization.

"Oh, this is _foreplay_," she sighed. Logan nodded gratefully. Jo just sent him the Jo version of the stink eye (which is more _elegantly displeased_ than properly stink-ful) grabbed Camille's hand, and walked away. Logan thought he heard her mutter under her breath, "_Boys._"

"Doesn't mean we can't play," Camille supplied helpfully, and Logan did a double take as Jo laughed and let Camille put an arm around her shoulders. He did not see that coming—

Actually, he did. He totally saw that coming. He also saw Carlos coming, sprinting towards Logan with his helmet righted at the top of his head and Kendall's jersey number 13 in hand, and Logan figured it was time for him to bolt.

* * *

><p>"Hey big brother."<p>

Kendall looked up from his watch to the opened elevator doors and grinned. "Hey yourself," he greeted. "How's my favorite baby sister doing on this fine Palmwoods morning?"

"Found the mess you guys left in the kitchen," Katie said nonchalantly, holding the elevator doors open. "You need a ride?"

Kendall looked back down at his watch. "Just give me a second… Aaaand… Sure." He strolled casually to Katie's side, smiling smugly as the elevator headed down for the lobby. "Yeah, Logan and I had to call a war conference this morning. James and Carlos were getting out of hand."

Katie snorted, as if to say, No, _really_? "You know what I walked in on them _doing_ to each other last week?"

"I have a pretty good idea, if last night was any indication," Kendall replied aptly. "So yeah. Now we're playing kiss jersey no kiss backs."

"That's weird," Katie commented.

"The one who's got The Kiss by the time the clock strikes noon gets to—" Kendall stopped abruptly, looking down at his baby sister, remembering that she was, in fact, his baby sister. "You know what? Never mind the prize."

"Who's losing?" Katie quickly changed the subject, because while Kendall, James, Carlos, and Logan may be fine discussing the sordid details of their private lives in public, Katie wasn't. Not that she didn't support her older practically-brothers in any way, but just—There was a limit to how much an eleven-year-old should know (on issues not regarding money, at any rate), and whatever the Big Time Rush boys had to say definitely surpassed that limit. Kendall shrugged.

"Depends on what you mean by losing," he said breezily. Katie didn't look impressed, though she did have that Looking-up-to-big-brother look in her eyes.

"You have The Kiss?"

"Only for a few more seconds." The lights at the top of the elevator indicated its imminent arrival at the lobby in three floors, and Kendall pulled off his gray hoodie, revealing the brown and yellow hockey jersey he was wearing underneath. Katie wisely stood to the side as Kendall got his game face on, standing ready for action at the elevator door. "Three… two… _one_."

The bell dinged. Carlos came charging in, and Kendall was ready for him, bending his knees and grabbing Carlos to flip him over his shoulder onto the elevator floor.

"HA!" Kendall cried as he spun around and crouched over Carlos, who groaned and turned around. The fall had knocked his helmet back to the top of his head, leaving his lips open and ripe for the taking. With a crow of triumph, Kendall swooped down to pass on The Kiss, smacking his lips wetly as he pulled back, just to rub it in.

"Kiss jersey no kiss backs," he laughed before reaching down to help Carlos up. He patted his jersey fondly. "Lucky number 13."

"_Darn it_!" Carlos cursed, stomping his feet. He hopped up and down urgently, ignoring the way the elevator dinged in warning every time he landed in favor of looking pleadingly at Kendall. "Where are James and Logan?"

"Well, Logan was by the pool," Kendall answered, ready to kick back and relax, because with him kissing Carlos, every one of the Big Time Rush boys have had The Kiss bestowed upon them, and he knew neither James nor Logan would be particularly eager to get it back. He just had to find a good hiding spot until the clock strikes noon. "And knowing James, somewhere with a lot of mirrors."

"Okay." Carlos eyed the jersey Kendall was wearing, then his own very plain t-shirt. Quickly, he yanked it over Kendall's head. "Gimme that."

Carlos immediately took off in the direction of the pool, jersey number 13 in hand, and the elevator door shut again, leaving the Knight siblings inside, one smug as hell and the other a bit bored and a bit exasperated.

"I saw James in the lounge bathroom," Katie offered. "He said the mirrors were for defensive purposes."

"Sounds legitimate— mirrors do get rid of a lot of blind spots," Kendall allowed, trying to fix his hair by looking at his distorted reflection in the elevator walls. Katie rolled her eyes.

"He told that to his reflection," she deadpanned. Kendall paused, and laughed awkwardly before dropping his arms. As Katie reached for the Open Doors button, ready to leave, she asked, "Where are you headed?"

"2J," Kendall replied easily, pulling his sweatshirt back over his head. "It's perfect. James and Carlos will never think that I'd hide there, and Logan will be too busy being chased to even think."

"Cool," Katie responded just as flippantly, stepping around her older brother to get to the door. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Kendall called before the elevator doors slid shut. He grinned as he pressed the button to his floor. Winning this game was going to be a piece of cake.

* * *

><p>Carlos wiped a piece of cake off Kendall's jersey, contemplating whether or not he should stick it into his mouth, and whether or not sticking it into James's mouth afterwards would count as a kiss.<p>

"Indirect kisses don't count," James called from the other side of the bathroom, where he stood, surrounded on three sides by mirrors, and holding a bouquet of cake pops. Half of one of the confectionary was by Carlos's feet, the other half on his hand, after James had used it as a projectile weapon, and another one of the delicious, chocolaty treats was ready and loaded in James's free hand. There was a dangerous light in James's eyes, and in the eyes of all the reflections of James—one that spoke clear of his intention to completely cover Carlos with cake if he had to, just to keep from getting The Kiss. That light was enough to make even Carlos think twice about stepping forward into battle with James. But Logan, who Carlos had chased all the way to the lounge and had escaped when Carlos was distracted by James, was nowhere to be seen, and Carlos couldn't be the loser. He just couldn't.

"It didn't have to end like this," Carlos called in anguish, and James's fist clenched tighter around the cake pop.

"Didn't it?" He sounded just as bitter, and Carlos smiled grimly before tightening his helmet strap.

Then he ran for his James.

The battle happened in a blur of dark chocolate and pink frosting, in which Carlos was hyperaware of James's every move, tracking each and every cake pop carefully, cautious of James's impeccable aim. Carlos ducked, he sidestepped; he flipped, he tucked-and-rolled; he did the handstand, he did the matrix—what seemed like an infinite amount of cake pops later, James's hands were finally empty. Still at the height of his adrenaline surge, Carlos could see the way James's eyes widened in shock as he realized what was happening, what was going to happen, and it almost hurt Carlos to take that final step forward, press James against the mirrored wall, and look him in the eyes.

Carlos was breathing heavily, his arms tense, keeping careful pressure on James's wrists. He knew he should just lean forward and press his lips against James's, pass The Kiss on, keep himself from being the loser. He knew he should do it. He knew he should just—

"James—"

"Do it," James said brusquely, hardening his gaze as he looked back at Carlos's torn expression. As much as he wanted to take this chance and run away, he couldn't. Not to Carlos. "Just hurry up and get it over with."

"But _James_." James squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn't have to look at his best friend's torn expression anymore, but that only intensified the confusion, the torment in Carlos's grip on his wrists, the press of his body against James's, as he choked, "I _can't_."

"You _can_."

It took all of James's remaining strength to lean forward and catch Carlos's mouth in The Kiss, and Carlos gasped in displeasure against James's lips. James didn't let him pull back, though, flipping them around so he pressed Carlos back against the mirror, determined to kiss Carlos until he kissed back, so that it would count. Carlos fought it at first, desperate to make this a choice of his own, but slowly but surely, he succumbed to James, their lips moulding together easily from the months of practice they've had. For a moment, Carlos could fool himself into thinking this was just another kiss, one of many he and James shared casually and not-so-casually anytime they felt like, but when he felt James's lips curl up in a bittersweet smile, Carlos… Carlos let go. The illusion had shattered. This was it. This was The Kiss.

"Kiss jersey no kiss backs," he whispered hollowly. For a long, quiet moment, James and Carlos stood, forehead to forehead, sharing the same breath as the clock ticked on to noon, the hour of judgment. Then, gently, James lifted Carlos's hand, the one that was clutching tightly to jersey number 13, the one stained with cake. James gently detangled the jersey and pressed a kiss to each of his fingertips, and when he looked back at Carlos, his lips were dotted with pink and brown.

"No kiss backs doesn't mean we can't kiss," he said hoarsely, yet hopefully. "Just that it wouldn't count."

Carlos chuckled softly as he reached out with his now-cleaned fingers, cupping the back of James's neck.

"Come here, you," he murmured before pulling James down, determined to get his share of the cake as well.

* * *

><p>The situation was perfect, Logan thought as he carefully closed the bathroom door behind him. With James and Carlos preoccupied, Logan could take his time to think up a guarantee to win the game. In the brief moments he had to think as he was chasing and being chased, Logan realized that the game was pretty hard to cheat, as it was built on the boys' egos, eternally pitting one of them against at least two other members. Logan had considered being Kissed, passing on The Kiss, and preventing the person he had passed The Kiss onto from kissing anyone else, but that seemed uncomfortably similar to sabotage for him. The Kisser and the Kissed were definitely the key, though, and if Logan could find a way to use those positions to his advantage before the clock strikes noon—<p>

"Why hello there."

Logan yelped in surprise at the husky voice suddenly so close to his ear, and he looked up to find James, who had, in the middle of Logan's rather distracting thoughts of plotting victory, managed to cage Logan in against the wall.

"I _knew_ I shouldn't think in the middle of a game." Logan smacked his hand against the wall, lamenting. James just grinned all satisfied-like as he leaned down for The Kiss, and Logan, Logan panicked.

"I know a way to beat the game!" he shouted desperately, loud enough to stop James in his tracks. Before Logan could have a complete mental meltdown because he actually _didn't_ have a solution, however, he realized something very important. While he didn't think well under pressure, under intense terror was another thing entirely. Logan suddenly found himself standing straight, finger lifted poignantly in the air because, dammit, "_I know a way to beat the game!_"

James peered suspiciously at him, and Carlos approached from the other end of the bathroom, intrigued by the conversation.

"Explain," they commanded, and Logan was glad to step back from the looming danger that was James, standing against the door, ready to present his solution.

"Playing this game," Logan began solemnly, "aren't you guys tired of the mindless carnage we bring upon each other? Don't you just want a way out, for this game to finish, for _us_ to have a say in who the victors will be?"

James and Carlos exchanged looks.

"…Okay," Carlos said, clearing his throat.

"_Man_ inspirational speeches are hard to make," Logan huffed. He shook it off quickly, deciding to go the simpler route. "I say we team up against Kendall."

"That's suspiciously evil of you," James said, crossing his arms. Carlos crossed his arms too.

"Yeah. What's in it for you?"

"Look." Logan put his arms up, palms open as a symbol of peace. This was the delicate part in his last minute plan, convincing James and Carlos of the ingenuity it was. "Nothing against Kendall. Had it been Kendall and Carlos in here, I would have said to team up against James."

James nodded. "Fair enough."

"Go on," Carlos said, also satisfied with the explanation.

"As for what's in it for me…" Logan sent them both significant looks. "I don't think any of us wants to be the loser."

James and Carlos shuddered at the very prospect of losing, and Logan nodded meaningfully. Besides, despite all the boys' individual talents, they all knew it would be best for Kendall to lose this game.

"Alright," James accepted, holding his hand out to Logan. "Let's team up."

"What's the plan?" Carlos asked as they shook hands, and Logan grinned, proud to show off the brilliance that was his plan to the other two.

"Now, we're going to need jersey number 13, James's kissing prowess, and some more of that cake…"

Xxx

When Logan's plan was put into action at 11:53 AM, a dark cloud suddenly appeared above Palmwoods. It gathered swiftly, bringing with it howling winds, flickering lights, symbolic tumbleweed, and one single clap of thunder—the prelude to the monumental event that was about to take place.

"How did tumbleweed get into the apartment?" Kendall wondered aloud, lounging on the couch and sipping a pink smoothie.

The lights flickered once, twice, and the TV powered off with an electrical snap. The room was suddenly cast into darkness and a tense, ominous silence that even Kendall's snark didn't dare break. Kendall slowly stood, putting his smoothie down on the coffee table, breathing quietly in the heavy air.

Suddenly, the door burst open, hitting the wall with a bang, revealing in the pale yet blinding light of the strike of lightning three silhouettes Kendall was quite familiar with. The silence that followed was almost as bad as the one before, as war drums pulsed with every step the three figures took inside the apartment. The two on the sides stayed at the door as the center figure approached Kendall, tall, dark and scented like peppermint face cream.

"James," Kendall called, and the lights flickered on, dim and sepia above their heads. The way James's hair fell over his face cast his features into shadows, but his eyes still glowed with a supernatural light.

"Kendall," James responded, voice low and husky. His fingers brushed the hem of jersey number 13, which fitted tight over his shoulders but loose coming down on the sides. Kendall could see the yellow fabric shift with every breath James took as James opened his mouth again, this time to announce, "It's time for this to end."

"Indeed," Kendall answered. The neon digital clock Kendall had placed on the kitchen counter flashed a green 11:56. Four more minutes to go, everybody thought. Four more minutes until the loser is determined. "Teamed up against me, I see."

"Could've been any of us," James said, tone dispassionate. "You just happened to draw the short straw."

"Or it was drawn for me." Kendall turned his gaze on the figures by the door. "Logan came up with the plan, I assume?"

"Could've been any of us," Carlos repeated from his side of the door, helmet ever present, arms crossed defiantly over his chest. Despite his claim, the way Logan looked gratefully over at Carlos told Kendall all he needed to know. "Remember, I'm unpredictable."

"Alright," Kendall relinquished. "But tell me then, what does this plan of yours consist of?"

"Just the three of us, ensuring that _you're_ the one who's going to take the fall," Logan declared.

"What, the three of you all against me?" Kendall said with a smirk. "Be _generous_, Mr. Mitchell."

"No room for generosity," James countered, taking another step forward. Kendall's attention snapped back to James as they came face to face, the air between them seething with electricity. James's eyes were still flashing dangerously, and Kendall's pride brought his feet forward and square against James, who whispered ever-so-quietly, like Kendall wasn't meant to hear, a confession for James himself if anything else, "Just _victory_."

"…Bring it."

The lights flashed to life, and Logan, Carlos, and James pounced at the same time. But Kendall, magnificent bastard he was, was prepared, yanking the string he attached to his belt to activate the tripwire he had carefully stood on the opposite side of. The trio went down in a flail of limbs and Kendall made to gleefully escape, except that Carlos, unpredictable Carlos grabbed the helmet from his head at the last minute and slid it across the floor. Kendall's foot plunged into the foam-lined depths and skated out from under him. James was back on his feet in a flash, lunging at Kendall and struggling to keep him down, Logan and Carlos running to his aid. Together, the three of them managed to keep Kendall pinned to the ground, sweaty and out of breath.

"Hurry James," Logan gasped, twisting awkwardly to keep his hold on Kendall's legs. Carlos was likewise shoving at Kendall's shoulders. A man that doesn't want to lose was a powerful force to behold, as they've just found out. "We can't keep him down much longer."

"Exactly," Kendall choked out as he flopped valiantly against his best friends' clutches. "There's still three minutes left on the clock. There's no way—no way you can hold me down for that long. I'll be—up the moment you stop kissing me, and I'll get one of you."

"Not quite," James muttered before leaning down and kissing Kendall. Kendall immediately stilled, as all of the boys were prone to do when met with the lips of another, but that didn't stop him from whooping in triumph in his mind, because when James got up, he would be free, and Carlos was easily within grabbing distance, and Logan's grip on his leg was slackening, and Kendall was going to win this game, and _damn_ James was a good kisser, and when he stopped kissing Kendall—

When he stopped kissing Kendall.

_When_ he stopped kissing Kendall.

"That's right," Logan said in a low voice, catching his breath. He had completely released Kendall now, and sat back with Carlos at his side, watching the display before him with the satisfied air of someone that had just won a game of chess. "Three more minutes to go. Remember that one night after the concert when we were too tired to do anything, and just made out a lot? James's record was twenty minutes, and that's only 'cause I pulled him off."

"He can go on forever," Carlos said with a hint of pride. Kendall wanted to retaliate, wanted to push James off, wanted to seize Logan and show him that his plan had one ridiculously huge flaw named Kendall Knight, wanted to win this game so badly—

But he couldn't. It wasn't like Kendall had the best self control in the universe, but this was the first time he had made the conscious decision to stop, but couldn't. Kendall couldn't stop kissing James.

"Two more minutes to go," Carlos announced, tapping his watch. "Two more minutes, and the game is over."

_Ten minutes later…_

"…Overkill works too," Carlos said, glancing at Logan for confirmation. Logan was staring at James and Kendall's liplock with the intensity of a sun going supernova.

"Don't you mean over_kiss_?" he muttered.

"…Seriously? You went there?" Logan shrugged.

"Someone had to."

_Five more minutes later…_

"Are you guys done yet?" Carlos whined. "I wanna cash in on my prize!"

_Another five minutes later…_

"I don't even understand how this is physically possible!" Logan wailed.

_Yet another five minutes…_

"James, no more—James, _James_."

"The game's been over for _half an hour_," Logan hissed, yanking at Kendall's face while Carlos tackled James's. Literally. It was a miracle that James and Kendall were still glued together at the lips.

"There's only one thing to do…" Carlos panted as he got to his feet. Logan nodded in solemn agreement.

_Three minutes and twenty eight seconds later…_

"You guys dragged me away from the pool for this?" Katie didn't look amused. Neither did Logan and Carlos.

"Katie, you're our only hope," Logan pleaded, "Help us."

"_Half an hour_," Carlos added for emphasis. Katie rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she grumbled. Then, she cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, "Hey! Look what mom just bought! Chicken nuggets shaped like hockey pucks!"

"Chicken?" James yelled, head popping up.

"Hockey?" Kendall yelled, pushing James off him.

"Shapes?" Carlos yelled, bounding to the refrigerator after James and Kendall.

"Thanks Katie," Logan said gratefully before chasing after the other boys, because, as it turned out, RCM/CBT GlobalNet Sanyoid _did_ recently begin a line of hockey puck-shaped chicken nuggets (though how those were different from the shape of usual chicken nuggets was a mystery to all), and Mama Knight _did_ purchase a couple of boxes. Katie shook her head fondly.

"Oh yeah," she called, suddenly remembering. "Who lost?"

* * *

><p>"Ooh, Kendall, that was—<em>ah<em>," James moaned. "You are _magical._"

"My turn," Logan called with a low groan. "I need refilling."

"These fingers are _mine_," James hissed, grabbing onto Kendall.

"But I haven't gotten any yet," Carlos whimpered. "And I really need Kendall."

"Get in line," Logan growled. "I've been waiting forever. Even did the prep work myself."

"Alright, _guys_," Kendall snapped. "Will someone just pass me the lube so I can get to work on James already?"

"Wow," Katie said appreciatively. "You guys sure know how to make a completely innocent conversation inappropriate for most eleven year olds."

"Is it weird that he uses lube for massages?" Camille asked as Logan reluctantly got up from his sprawled position on the bed to toss Kendall the bottle of lubricant.

"It's _manlier_," Jo replied sardonically. "And I thought the whole point of that game was foreplay. This doesn't look… erotic to me."

"You obviously don't know how amazing Kendall's fingers are," Carlos said wistfully from his end of the bed, watching Kendall press at James's shoulders and James's blissed-out expression. Jo and Camille glanced at each other.

"Speaking of amazing fingers," Camille murmured. "You want to…?"

"Better than hanging around these prudes," Jo answered, smiling as she linked arms with Camille and marched out of the room. The boys barely noticed.

"Hey Carlos, can I borrow your video camera?" Katie asked, eyeing Jo and Camille as they disappeared down the hallway. Carlos hummed noncommittally and waved at his camera at the foot of the bed. Katie snatched it up, grinning. "Thanks. Hey, Jo, Camille, wait up! I have an offer to make you!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ...Wow, gaping plotholes. But ignore them. This is crack, after all.**

**This was supposed to be a Christmas thing, but it kind of devolved into... kiss jersey no kiss backs. That is beyond awkward. A game I might want to play, though, in a healthy polyamorous relationship...**

**The chunk that the unnecessarily epic James/Carlos scene replaced:**

"Wait!" Carlos cried. James stepped back, startled. Carlos quickly unclipped the watch his parents gave him for his birthday from his wrist and held it by its strap in front of James, who just watched him questioningly. Carlos's eyes narrowed. It was now or nothing. He began swinging the watch back and forth, back and forth…

"You are getting very sleepy…"

James rolled his eyes and threw his arms up.

"It's ten in the morning! I'm not sleepy!" he complained, and made to attack again, but Carlos managed to hold him back with his aggressive watch-holding skills. Psh. And Logan said it wouldn't come in handy.

"You are not going to kiss me…" he tried again, and James, for all his not-sleepy bravado, was beginning to look a little unfocused at the eyes…

"Alright, bye!"

Carlos dodged to the side to avoid the swaying James and ran for sanctuary. James jerked out of his trance just as Carlos slammed the door behind him.

"Not again, dammit!" he cursed, stomping his feet on the ground and hurriedly running out after Carlos.

**Because in Big Time Video, when Carlos was doing his hypnosis-thingy by the pool, James totally fell for it. God I love these boys.**

**I recently downloaded Season 1 and I REALLY need Season 2. Anyone know where I can download?**

**Review please?**


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